


Snow Fall

by OneofWebs



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Character Death, Established Relationship, Gun Violence, Guns, Injury, Kissing, M/M, Murder-Suicide, Suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-29
Updated: 2018-06-29
Packaged: 2019-05-30 15:16:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,203
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15099455
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OneofWebs/pseuds/OneofWebs
Summary: The revolution has failed, but there's still once choice left to make. To take his own life, or to let them take it for him. Simon makes the choice for him, and a gun doesn't feel quite the same after that.Russian TranslationCheck Out My Tumblr If You Want To See More





	Snow Fall

**Author's Note:**

> Yikes, so I thought to myself, I should just rewrite every single romance scene but with Simon instead. Unfortunately, 95% of the romance scenes are terribly cruel.
> 
> Heavy Suicide Warning

Alarms were sounding in his head, blaring _damage_. Critical Failure. Chances of Survival: 62%. He was already collapsing. The ground hurt worse than the bullet did, and his ears were ringing—but he couldn't stop. Stopping here would mean death, and he wouldn't go down without a fight. He'd proved that much to himself, to Jericho, to the world, that the Androids would fight. Even if Markus was the last one standing, he would fight. But, how his arms were shaking, breath caught up in his throat as he pushed and pried so delicately to try and stand up. Snow covered the ground, nothing to really grip, and his knees slid as he pushed himself up. He would fall again, he could see it without even looking. He would fall, the soldiers would shoot, and that would be the end of it all. The revolution, failed. Their cause, lost.

If it wasn't already.

"Markus! Markus—no," Simon. Simon.

_Simon._

Simon grabbed him, rolled him over to get a better grip, and Markus found purchase holding onto Simon's shoulder. He ducked down, once in a body-shifting jerk, and Markus grunted, but the bullet flew over their heads. They had to get away, they had to _run_ , and how the word tasted like ash. Simon was braver than he was, though, and hoisted him up onto his feet and pulling him along, holding him by the waist like it was all he was worth. One last moment. To get away or to die, and fighting another day was always something so much more noble than dying on their shields, so Markus pressed on well enough that Simon wasn't dragging him. Away from the gunfire and the bullets and the glaring eyes of failure.

The Cyberlife store was just across the street, just far enough away and just safe enough. It would do for a grave, grim thought as it were, though Markus eyed it dreadfully. He could still hear the bells in his ears, the ringing of bullets. Critical Damage. Critical Failure. Lost cause, lost revolution, and now they were nothing but cowards, not yet brave enough to face their own death in the eye. Running felt cruel, but Markus didn't have the courage to let go of Simon. He only held tighter, pushed just a little farther until Simon was pushing through the half cracked door so they could tumble inside. Inside, dark and damaged like the rest of the area now. Just another casualty for the cause, and there was something strange about the store being so empty and black. In disarray.

Simon gave out, maybe, or just let him down a little too roughly when they approached a would be counter. Maybe it was Markus, who's legs were starting to shake and bend in on each other, or his arm that had lost all strength. They both dropped, Markus only barely able to catch himself on his hand before he went face first into the floor, but Simon was still there. There to make sure he got down, sat, collapsed now against this solid block and running out of time. They were running out of time, but Simon looked blank, just kneeling there with his fists curled up on his knees like it might stop the shakes in his shoulders. All around them, the cause was dying. Even the store felt just as dead, where through the partially open door and destroyed windows, snow had drifted in. Where the voices came from now.

"We have you surrounded! Come out with your hands up!"

"It can't end like this, no," Simon was shaking his hands. "We need to get out of here," he drifted off, looked off to the side and maybe around. For an escape, for a plan. Markus peered around him, instead, looking outside and beyond the building. The footsteps approaching like thunder, the sounds of their weapons. For the first time since he'd started this, dread overtook him. Dread absolutely destroyed him, and his breath caught up in his throat.

"If you come out now, we won't shoot!"

A lie. Markus thought, knew, maybe, but denied it and slumped his head back to let it sink into his very veins. It was a way out. Their way out of here, just like Simon had said, but—every alarm in his body was still going off. Maybe now worse, that he was truly giving that statement the time of day where he should have called their bluff and helped Simon search. In the irony, though, he couldn't feel his legs, just the sudden pressure of Simon's hand. Markus opened his eyes to look, and they stared at each other for a long moment. No words. Just the thought, in utter desperation, that this was the end.

All of his thoughts flat lined, all at once, and he reached forward to put his hand on Simon's neck. Grabbed him, where should have been a gentle tug, and pressing their lips together. A desperate, painful kiss, their teeth clacking. They made up for a second later, and Simon's hand moved from his knee up to his neck, both of them, to rest at the juncture there with his shoulder. Simon kissed with his whole body—his shoulders hunched, he leaned forward, shifted where he needed to. As close as he could get, hummed. Markus moved his hand to cradle just behind Simon's head. Hold him closer. Like he was dear, and Markus couldn't live without him. The clock was ticking, though, and they parted slower than they had come together. Simon looking at him with all big blue eyes and parted lips.

His face dropped when he saw Markus again, if not for pain than for guilt. Blood blood, smeared across his face, and Markus was still bleeding. If they held up here long enough, Markus would die anyway. That hurt more than anything, even as Simon knelt there with no wounds. The blood on his face not his own, the blood on his clothes from where Markus had held him so tightly. If only time could stop, he would kiss Markus again and tell him things would be alright. Lies weren't necessary, though. Not with the military closing in on their position. Not with blood on their hands. Instead, it was just silence, and Markus slumped back with his head against the counter.

"It's over, Simon," he said. A whisper, eyes a little wide as if he were shocked at his own insistence. If they surrendered. Maybe, he could believe their words. At least take it for their last chance to make it out of here alive. "There's nothing we can do here—we have to surrender." Choked on his own insistence, now.

Simon nearly reeled, but jolted back just enough for Markus to notice. He was stiff, offended at the insinuation in such a way that was him—if there was still time left enough to reminisce about the mannerisms that made Simon so unique.

"You can't be serious. Markus, they'll—"

"It's our only chance—" Markus cut himself off, caught up in those eyes. He felt the teas welling up in his own, and the humanity of it was something disturbing. But, he held back the tears, taking the precious seconds to look over Simon, instead. He always did everything with his entire body. Now, in his sympathy, maybe, he was leaning forward again with his hand on Markus' thigh. Listening so intently to ever jump and jerk of Markus' voice.

"I don't want them to kill you…"

Words weren't. Enough. They didn't serve their purpose, and tears were dripping down Simon's cheek. The words just hung there, heavy and stupid, and they made Markus' chest ache. He didn't want Simon to die. Even if he had to, even if they shot him the moment they stepped out of the building—Simon should live. He had to. He hadn't done anything but follow and hang on Markus' every mistake and regret now, as it were. A series of failures that lead to this moment, to Simon crying, and Markus wishing for all the world that Simon wouldn't have to die for his own carelessness. Instead, he reached out to take Simon's hand. Pressed their palms together until their skin melted back, and that blue light left a lingering glow between them.

Simon fell forward with the intensity of it all, enough that their foreheads pressed together and he choked back a sob. It felt like resignation. Like failure and desperation, like guilt and absolute self-hatred. But there was love behind it all, because he wasn't making a choice now he wanted to. He wanted to fight, he wanted to stand until they were free. But, he had to draw a line somewhere. He drew that line at Simon. He wouldn't sacrifice Simon.

Even when the moment drew to an end, Markus didn't let go of Simon's hand. Didn't push him away. They were running out of time, and he wanted to spend those last minutes as close as he could. Critical Damage. Bio-components failing. Simon must have seen those messages too. He must have known, now, the way he squeezed his fingers into Markus's palm and shuddered out a breath between them.

"Then you have to," Simon whispered.

Markus squeezed his eyes shut and pounded his head back into the counter. He couldn't stop the tears after that, even under the pressure of his eyelids. Simon squeezed his hand harder, a second, before letting go and leaning back. It was curiosity, or maybe pain, in the worst way, that had Markus opening his eyes again to watch as Simon straightened his back. Held his chin high and looked squarely at Markus. Like he would nod, if his stature didn't say enough.

"We can't trust them," he still iterated. "If we go out now, they'll shoot us Markus. You're dying, and—" Simon had managed so far to hold himself together. Even with the tears spilling down his face, he had looked so calm. So preserved in his mannerism that crying must have not been something he did often. But then, his voice cracked and his fingers were digging back into the fabric of his pants. He didn't have to say more.

Markus reached for the gun at his hip. A last ditch pistol, for the worst. This wasn't what he foresaw as the worst. This wasn't letting a member of the SWAT team get too close. This wasn't a fast escape. This was something more, something dangerous. It was a chance, even worse than the one the team outside had given them. Markus mulled it over, one last time, looking at and feeling the way the gun fit into his palm. Surrendering was still an option. Simon didn't have to die. The chance was slim they would only fire on him; he was the leader of the revolution. Simon, in the eyes of the public, was a nobody. But there was a chance.

"Simon—" his voice caught up in his throat, but Simon shook his head.

_And I can't live without you._

It hung in the air like a whisper. Simon's mouth hadn't moved, but his eyes. His shoulders were shaking, his eyes were downcast, and he'd made his decision. Chances of survival: 0%. He used his free hand to squeeze onto Simon's, to intertwine their fingers for a brief enough moment. Just a touch, just enough. One last time, but the gun was still heavy when Markus moved. Simon wrapped one hand around the barrel and one around Markus' wrist.

There was still time to change his mind.

Markus moved his free hand now to Simon's shoulder, where he gripped into his jacket like it meant something.

Dammit, there was still _time._

"It's alright, Markus," Simon whispered. Straightened just a little more and aimed the gun right at his heart. So Markus wouldn't have to. "…I love you."

—! Stopped his smile cold.

Markus caught Simon's body. His body. As it slumped forward, eyes closed and limp, and held it to his chest. The tears were flowing freely now, but his lips were hard set in a line across his face. His brows, furrowed, and he took not a second longer to look at Simon. Only seconds had passed, but to remember what he'd just done. To acknowledge it would've been worse than death. Bio-components Failing. Shutdown Imminent.

He aimed the gun himself this time, in his left hand, tucked neatly under his chin. Outside, he could hear the team approaching. Ready to make their move. They were out of time, and all he had to do was pull the trigger. Better to take his life himself than to willingly hand himself over. Better to die now than lose Simon forever, and have to face the rest of time in torment—however long time might give him. He always believed he would not go down without a fight.

One last glance at Simon was all he allowed himself, and the thought to pass through his mind that Simon looked at peace. Peace was certainly something, and Markus hoped to find it on the other side of the bullet. He pulled the trigger—

**Author's Note:**

>   
>  [Check Out My Tumblr If You Want To See More](https://tantumuna.tumblr.com)   
> 


End file.
